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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024207">Calm Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21'>Delirious21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anger Management, Light Dom/sub, Lost War OP, MTMTE, Other, Suggestive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:28:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Optimus Prime went in search of Alpha Trion, but more than a few things got out of hand. The trip wasn't going quite as planned. <br/>From anon on Tumblr who asked for "mtmte post war OP, who seems to have let his power go to his head, so what about his s/o kinda telling him off with how he treats people and uses his power??"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Optimus Prime/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Calm Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Optimus Prime's partner is gender neutral </p>
<p>suggestive but all consensual suggestiveiness </p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Jazz, have you received the status reports from Cybertron yet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus sat on the very edge of his captain’s chair, servos clenched in his lap. He surveyed the deck and his meager crew, and through the windshield he scanned the green Earth terrain. It’d only been a week since he, Prowl, Arcee, Jazz, and Optimus’ conjunx embarked on their search for Alpha Trion, but it felt like decades. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jazz was hunched over the main server, tsking and shaking his helm. “Nah, nothin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sifting through a stack of datapads, Prowl glanced up. “Last we heard was from Rattrap.” He snorted, stretched and joined Jazz at the server. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rattrap isn’t our liaison,” Optimus snapped. “What about Chromia?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s only been a couple of days, sir,” Jazz muttered. He and Prowl were on thin ice and they knew it. With such a small crew, it was impossible to avoid Optimus’ temper and, though they’ve all dealt with worse, it was unnerving to be belittled by the unstoppable force that was once Orion Pax. “Chromia will only report if she thinks Starscream’s planning somethin’. Nothin’ is good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus’ fists clenched on the arms of his chair. “Is that so? Silence from a planet teeming with billions of Cybertronians is a positive sign? When has that ever been the case! Have you learned nothing from centuries of war?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jazz glanced from a rigid Prowl back to their fuming commander. “We might have landed in a dead zone. Why don’t I go out and get Arcee and--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” The chair creaked as Optimus pushed out of it in a flash. “You don’t move from that fucking chair until you find the messages from Cybertron.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Prowl leaned back, feigning nonchalance. “He’s checked and rechecked already, Prime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus opened his mouth to chew both his lieutenants' helms off, but a cold servo clamped over his mouth from behind. He whipped around, ready to strike, but Arcee protected his attacker. Arcee deflected the hit and the owner of the servo (which was once again clamped over his mouth) shoved him into the captain’s chair. He sat, mouth a tight line, glaring up at his smaller partner. Arcee hovered behind them, but tunnel vision left them the sole Bot in his optics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Voice dripping spite and rage, Optimus barked, “Out! All of you, out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone except his conjunx slipped out. Even when the two were alone, Optimus was fuming. The nerve some bots had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They grabbed his face and yanked him forward, effectively shutting him up. They squeezed his cheeks, forcing Optimus’ lips to pucker. “Did I give you permission to address me?” They rumbled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus tried to hide the sharp intake he sucked in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” they hummed, still holding his face hard enough to make his jaw ache. “Next time, I’ll let the others stay. I’m sure they’d enjoy watching.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus’ face burned with humiliation as the rage inside him began to deflate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I’ll degrade you the way you step all over them, hmm? Or I could yell at you, scream and blame you for something you have no control over.” They released his face with a shove. “Or I’ll make you kneel and beg for forgiveness.” Their optics were always so soft, understanding, but now they were merciless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Optimus extended a servo, a silent plea for forgiveness, and they slapped it away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On the ground, now!” They barked the order then sighed, voice losing its false cruelty. “You have to get this under control, Optimus.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up to them from where he was on all fours on the floor, his legs shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was desperation or defeat that made him tremble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll fix this. Even if this is what it takes.” They placed a servo atop his helm and pet a finial. “You remember the safeword?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to reboot his vocalizer twice before he could croak, “Cat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s right, my little mouse.” They knelt before him, a small smile on their gorgeous faceplates. “Now, where were we?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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